


Whumptober 2020

by RosieSocks



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fever, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Restraints, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieSocks/pseuds/RosieSocks
Summary: These are SUPPOSED to all be Irondad/Spiderson fics for Whumptober 2020, but who knows if my motivation will even last the whole month? Guess we'll find out!
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Kudos: 16





	Whumptober 2020

Peter’s eyes were on fire.  
He couldn’t remember why or how. All he knew was pain. He’d awoken with a gasp, eyes snapping open, and was met with nothing but white hot fiery pain. He squeezed his eyes shut again, hating how the fire made his head pound. What was going on? Why were they still hurting him?  
What had he done to deserve this?  
Please, no, he begged silently to no one in particular. Make it stop!  
His head fell back to rest on something behind him and he heaved in breath after breath of hot, fiery air. Why was everything so hot? Why was it on fire? His breath accelerated in desperation. It was almost like he wasn’t breathing anything at all. Where was the oxygen?  
Peter tried to bring his hands up to his throat, but found he couldn’t. Desperate to know why, he pried his eyes open to try and see what was going on, but once more all he could see was fire. He continued to struggle, now realizing that not only was he unable to move his arms, but his legs too.  
Was he being tied down again?  
This thought only increased his desperation. He couldn’t be tied down again! He wanted out. Out. Out. Out.  
He wanted ice...or at least for the fire to be gone.  
He wanted Tony.  
Peter was distantly aware of someone yelling, but for the most part all he could hear was the blood roaring in his ears and the crackling of the flames as they engulfed him. He wished he could see. He wished he wasn’t restrained.  
He pulled on the restraints again, tugging at them viciously. Hands were on him then, burning into his skin with such intensity that he had to stop struggling. It hurt too much. Peter squeezed his hands into fists, curling and uncurling them repeatedly. A hand grasped his and it felt...gentle? That couldn’t be right.  
A hand was softly carding through his hair now, over and over. He could hear a voice now. Someone was murmuring softly, although he couldn’t make out any specific words. The fire continued to lick at his flesh and behind his eyes, but the hand holding his own hand and the other in his hair grounded him a little. He fought for control of his breathing. It still felt like he was breathing in mostly smoke, but he was able to relax a little. Maybe he wasn’t about to be tortured anymore? Maybe he was halfway sort of safe?  
That thought of safety made his entire body feel so heavy. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to sleep. Maybe sleep would help to put out the fire that still burned him alive. It still hurt so much, but now the exhaustion he felt seemed impossible to ignore. Letting go seemed easier than trying to fight it.  
His breaths gradually slowed and deepened and soon Peter felt himself losing consciousness. He welcomed the feeling.  
…  
Tony was losing his mind.  
It’d already been a long week, with Peter going missing and the fear-inducing search that soon followed his disappearance, but bringing him back like this just made everything so much worse.  
He’d seen the kid with injuries of almost every kind by this point, so it wasn’t necessarily seeing him hurt that scared Tony so bad (although he wasn’t a big fan of that part either). No, really it was seeing him so out of his mind; so gone.  
Peter had been unconscious when Tony had found him in the burning building. Or, really, it’d been more like a really tall tower...a really tall flaming tower filled with smoke. The door had been locked from the outside and there were no windows up there, so whoever had put Peter up there really had wanted to kill him. Tony had scooped him up and flew him back to the Tower as fast as he could.  
Peter hadn’t so much as flinched the entire way back. Needless to say, Tony was panicking the entire way back.  
He’d had Bruce and Cho look over Peter’s injuries, finding a few minor burns on his arms and legs, as well as a nasty infected wound in his side. After being placed on oxygen and having the wounds cleaned and dressed, they assured him Peter was going to be fine. He should wake up at any moment.  
Which, he did. The only problem was...having him awake revealed a whole other set of issues.  
Tony had been sitting by Peter’s bed, working on something on his StarkPad, when Peter had sat up all too fast, eyes flying open as he yelled louder than Tony had ever heard him before. Before Tony could even move, Peter was ripping the oxygen mask from his face and throwing himself off of the bed, ripping the wound dressings in the process and throwing himself to the floor.  
“Woah, woah woah! Kid, calm down, it’s okay! You’re okay!” Tony threw the StarkPad aside and stood up, rushing over to the other side of the bed where Peter was scrambling to his feet, panting and looking around the room wildly. Tony reached out to grab his arm and help him up, but Peter only screamed again, making Tony flinch back in surprise. He’d been in pain when Tony had touched him…  
“Pete? Kid?” Tony asked, still crouched down where Peter remained on the floor. “You with me?”  
Peter wouldn’t meet his eyes, only looking around the room wildly as if…  
As if he wasn’t seeing anything at all.  
Probably hearing the commotion, Bruce and Cho soon rushed into the room to find an unsuccessful Tony trying to coax Peter back into bed. It took the three of them to wrangle him back into bed, which he fought the entire way, screaming and yelling wordlessly. Tony’s heart clenched at each sound, his worry increasing by the moment. What had happened to Peter? Why didn’t he recognize any of them?  
“Tony, we’re gonna have to restrain him,” Bruce said as the three of them heaved a still-screaming Peter back onto the hospital bed.  
“What? No!” Tony instantly objected. “I’m not tying my kid to a bed, Bruce.”  
“It’s the only way,” Cho countered. “Tony, he’s out of his mind. He’s going to hurt himself even more.”  
Tony knew they were right, but the thought of Peter tied down to a bed and unable to move made him feel sick. The poor kid had already been through so much. What if he woke up in his right mind again only to find himself tied up? He’d be so scared.  
He didn’t like the idea, but he forced himself to help Bruce and Cho get the restraints. Peter struggled against them, yelling until his voice sounded raw and painful. His attempts grew weaker after about twenty more minutes of struggling, at which point they were able to redress his wounds and coax him into wearing the oxygen mask again.  
“We should give him something to help him sleep,” Cho suggested. “He’s clearly been through a lot; he could use some actual rest now.” Bruce agreed. Soon they had an IV in Peter’s arm and his movements had grown sluggish. Tony sat in the chair by his bed again and watched Peter drift out of consciousness.  
A few hours later, Tony had left the room for about five minutes to quickly grab something to eat, when FRIDAY alerted him that Peter was awake again.Tony ran down the hall back towards the MedBay, finding Peter struggling to sit up and pulling against the restraints while he once again screamed. His eyes were scrunched closed like it hurt too much to open them, but as Tony stepped closer he saw him open them sightlessly for a couple of seconds. His heart clenched as he approached Peter, going to grab Peter’s hand in his to try and calm him down.  
“Hey, Pete,” he said softly in between Peter’s screaming. “It’s okay, bud. You’re alright. It’s gonna be okay.” He reached his other hand out to card gently through Peter’s curls. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, so Tony brushed his bangs out of the way as he kept talking to him softly. Peter was way too warm. It felt like a fever.  
Bruce and Cho both returned just a few moments later, agreeing that Peter probably did have a fever. The only problem was regular fever-reducers didn’t work on Peter, and they were currently out of the super-soldier Steve Rogers kind.  
“We should get him in a bath,” Bruce said, noting that his fever was definitely getting close to the “definitely not safe” zone. He and Cho went to the other room to start filling the tub while Tony stayed at Peter’s side, trying to keep him calm.  
“You’re alright, Underoos,” Tony said softly, still carding his fingers through Peter’s hair. His breathing sounded forced and desperate, but as Tony continued to murmur to him, it calmed, and eventually, Peter drifted to sleep again right as Bruce came back announcing the bath was ready.  
…  
Peter gasped awake as he was surrounded suddenly by cool water all around him. It almost felt nice, but the coolness was such a contrast to the fire still burning in his head and behind his eyes that it was shocking him in the most uncomfortable way. He stretched his hands out shakily, finding the smooth walls of the bathtub on either side of him as he swiveled his head back and forth in a useless effort to scan his surroundings. His eyes were still not cooperating and could only see a too-bright light everywhere he looked. Peter gratefully acknowledged how the pounding in his head had calmed a little, though. At least there was that.  
The shock from the cold had him heaving in his breaths for a few moments, making him want to panic and try to escape, but some familiar voices made him pause.  
“Hey, Underoos. Back with us in the land of the living, huh?”  
Peter turned his head to where the voice was coming from even though he couldn’t see a thing. “T’ny?” he asked, voice slurring.  
“Yeah, bud, it’s me. You gave us a nasty scare there for a sec.”  
“ ‘m s’rry,” Peter murmured, letting his head rest against his shoulder tiredly.  
A hand was running through his hair again. “None of that now,” Tony said quietly. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. How’re you feeling?”  
Peter let out a small groan. “Head h’rts.”  
“Alright buddy, no worries. Brucie and Cho will get you fixed up. We’re just gonna keep cooling you down, okay? You’ve got a bad fever.”  
“M’kay,” Peter said, letting his eyes slip closed again. The bright lights were starting to make his head pound even worse.  
“Peter?” He recognized Bruce’s voice nearby. “Can you see anything with your eyes open?”  
Peter murmured something he hoped could be understood as, “No.” His throat was raw and dry for some reason, so talking wasn’t the funnest thing to be doing at the moment. He really just wanted to go back to sleep.  
“Okay, that’s alright,” Bruce responded. “Your vision should come back as we lower your temperature. Just relax for now, we’ll get you cooled down.”  
Peter felt cool water being poured over his chest and arms. He fought the urge to scramble away. It was almost too cold and he didn’t like it. But this was already better than the horrible fiery inferno from before, so he kept himself still.  
He heard Tony chuckle a little. “So glad to have you back, Underoos. This is so much easier than when you put up a fight earlier. Plus, having your sanity return is much better for this old man’s heart.”  
Peter grunted, tilting his head a little in question. What the heck was Tony talking about?  
“What, you don’t remember? You were fighting the three of us pretty hard a few hours ago, Pete. It was scary stuff.”  
Peter just let out a slow breath in response. He didn’t remember any of that. He let himself fall asleep again.  
…  
Tony was at his bedside when he awoke a few hours later, bleary-eyed, but from Tony’s observations apparently once again able to see. Peter yawned and stretched, groaning at the sore burns that were already on their way to being healed, but then relaxing and letting his face droop into a tired smile.  
“Hey kid,” Tony greeted him. “How’re you feeling?”  
“Mm, not bad. Kinda cold, though,” Peter responded, still grinning a little.  
“Cold? You just came down from a fever of a hundred and three, and you have the audacity to claim being cold?” Tony tsked, shaking his head, but returning the playful grin.  
Peter shrugged, an amused glint entering his tired eyes. “I dunno. What can I say? We spiders prefer the heat. Not able to thermoregulate and all that jazz.”  
Tony snorted. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid.”


End file.
